


Tender is the touch (of someone you love too much)

by silveronthetree



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, First Time, The Phantom Menace AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-04 13:30:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12772074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveronthetree/pseuds/silveronthetree
Summary: In an AU where Satine never returns to her role as Duchess of Mandalore after being rescued by the Jedi, when Qui-Gon dies on Naboo, Satine is there for Obi-Wan.





	Tender is the touch (of someone you love too much)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [engmaresh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/gifts).



> I was intrigued by your prompt about an alternate universe where Satine wasn't restored to power on Mandalore and had to change her identity and this was the (slightly unexpected) result. I hope you enjoy it.

The whole chamber is bathed in an orange glow, as Satine catches her first sight in ten years of Obi-Wan Kenobi. His hooded form is half-obscured by the flames surrounding his master's body. She takes a deep breath, but it fails to calm her. She'd known he'd be on Naboo, but this wasn't the situation she'd envisioned. 

It's hard to believe that Qui-Gon is gone. He was such a huge presence. They both were. It's almost impossible to imagine one without the other and she blinks hard to stop the threatening tears. The part of her that always resented Qui-Gon for failing to restore her to her place on Mandalore and for separating her from Obi-Wan is buried and she can only remember how kind he was to a lost, angry teenager. 

Sadia Antilles, senate aide, has no reason to cry for this Jedi, however much Satine Kryze may have owed him. She's worked too hard to develop her new life to allow long ago feelings give her away in front of her colleagues, let alone in front of the newly elected Chancellor. She can already see one of the other aides giving her a curious look and she ducks her head, in keeping with the solemnity of the situation. But she can't help glancing up. She sees some of Qui-Gon's kindness in his apprentice, as Obi-Wan speaks to the lost-looking boy beside him. The boy seems to gain strength from his words. Who is the child? There's a rumour he's the one who destroyed the droid control ship, but it seems unlikely. He doesn't look much like a Jedi padawan.

Obi-Wan is still standing there as the funeral ends. Slowly the chamber empties, the young boy goes with the Naboo handmaidens, the Jedi council surround Obi-Wan briefly, and she files out of the chamber with the rest of the group from Coruscant. As she leaves she looks back and Obi-Wan is standing alone staring into the dying flames. She aches to go to him, to comfort him, but now is not the time. 

***

Her opportunity comes later as she escapes from her colleagues on the pretext of finding her bed. She tells one of the palace guards that the Chancellor wishes to know whether the Jedi have suitable accommodations, and his respect for his former senator and a certain degree of distraction by recent events means that he reveals enough to give her a good idea of Obi-Wan's location. It's a security hole she ought to report later, but this time it is to her advantage and she can't risk making a connection with Obi-Wan known.

Obi-Wan is sitting hunched over on the edge of his bed, his head buried in his hands, as she slips into his room, closing the door behind her. He looks up at as she enters, but he barely reacts. He gaze is level and a little unfocused and the faint sheen of tears is apparent as it catches the light. 

She hesitates, one hand on the door frame. "Hello, Obi-Wan," she whispers, before walking towards him. He stares, eyes wide. The rough brown of his robe is a strange contrast to the rich Naboo silk of the bed clothing and drapery. It makes him look even more lost. 

He reaches out and jerks back when his hand hits the cloth of her skirt. "Satine? How are you here?"

She sits down on the bed next to him. It is hard and barely dips under her weight, and she thinks, oddly, that despite the rich fabrics covering the room, someone is familiar with something of the Jedi reputation for asceticism. 

She pushes back her hood. She's been long accustomed to the cropped brown waves of her hair, but his surprise is obvious as he reaches out again to touch it. 

"Satine?" He looks like he expects her to say no. He rubs at his red rimmed eyes and blinks. 

"They call me Sadia now, but yes it's Satine." It sounds unnatural in her head, she hasn't said that name aloud in years. Obi-Wan's eyes are alert now and full of questions, but before he can speak, she has to tell him, "I'm so sorry about Qui-Gon."

"There is no death, there is only the force," he says, a tinge of bitterness in his voice, and he looks down to his hands in his lap. They are clenched in the fabric of his robe, and she touches one. She can feel the tension under her fingers.

"I killed the S-, the one that killed him," he says. 

She flinches hearing it straight out like that. And his eyes darken for an instant at her reaction. Memories of teenage fights on that very subject make her tense, and she wants to shout that killing isn't always the answer, but she has learnt control the hard way and now isn't the time. He is grieving and she's damned glad that he's alive. 

"I was so angry," he continues, regret filling his voice. "He'd have been so disappointed by that." Had Obi-Wan learnt to control his temper as well? She'd always thought it meant something a little different for the Jedi, based on the depth of Qui-Gon's concern and Obi-Wan's present guilt. 

"He'd be glad you'd survived." She gives into her desire to hold his hand, his fingers loosening their hold on the fabric as she slips her hand under his fist.

"He wanted someone to look after the boy," he mutters. 

She looks at him askance. They both know that is nonsense. Whatever the Jedi might pretend, Qui-Gon loved Obi-Wan like a son.

He makes a face and shrugs, and she lets go of his hand to stroke his cheek. He leans into her hand and they stay that way for a long time. The only sound in the room is the soft sound of their breathing.

"I didn't know how much I needed you tonight," he whispers eventually and her heart soars. She'd been expecting rejection. She still has no idea if his lack of contact over the years had been due to not knowing where she was, or not even wanting to try. The Jedi after all were the ones who'd arranged her identity all those years ago.

Convulsively he shifts and pulls her into his arms, hands clenched into the back of her robe pulling it tight. His embrace is almost too tight around her arms, it's hard to move them to stroke his back as she wants. 

She can feel his heart thumping wildly, close to her breast. His breath make her hair flutter. She forces her arm up to put her hand over his shoulder and he pulls back from the tight embrace, and then his mouth is on hers. At first his mouth is dry, and it takes a few seconds for her to respond, but then they are kissing. 

He tastes the same. It feels just like their last kiss. Full of desperation, in a hidden corner of the Jedi temple, before she'd been whisked away into a new identity on another planet and he'd returned to the teachings of the Jedi. 

They kiss and kiss. She's kissed a few men in the last few years because she felt that Sadia Antilles would. Sadia doesn't have a lost love. Sadia would even have a few casual relationships, although they always knew that they came second to her political duties.

None of those kisses felt as right as this. 

His hand relaxes on her robe as she slips her hands into his hair. Pulling him even closer if that is possible. The feel and taste and smell of Obi-Wan surrounds her and she sinks into it. She wants to stay here forever.

A chrono chimes and he pulls away from her, the spell broken.

She tries to pull him close again but he resists her, but the tenderness of the hand stroking her shoulder reassures her that it isn't a complete rejection. 

"How are you here, Satine? I'm very glad you are, but why now?"

"I came with the new Chancellor," she explains. "I'm a senate aide and he needs help winding things up here, and I know Naboo." She doesn't mention how much she hates being thrown into the aftermath of war again, on a planet she thought had found peace. It throws doubt on all her secret hopes for Mandalore.

He looks puzzled at her response. "But I saw the list of diplomats. They were all familiar..." His face clears, "You're Sadia Antilles?" 

She nods.

His mouth quirks in a half smile, but there isn't any real mirth behind it. "Easier to hide with the most common last name in the galaxy." 

She wants to bridle. She didn't choose it, but shrugs instead. "It's worked so far." Before he can ask more questions about her life since they'd parted, she distracts herself from her memories by leaning forward and kissing him again. 

This time he lets her. He lifts her onto his lap, so she is almost straddling his leg. The kisses are gentler, as they explore each other's mouths. She sucks on his lower lip and he gasps. His hands slide up her waist, and she pushes herself closer wanting more contact. He kisses her ear and then the sensitive skin of her neck and she sighs.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" he asks. They'd slept close so many times before, protecting themselves against the cold of Mandalore, but always chastely, despite their desires. There is no mistaking his meaning now. Not with his hand so close to her breasts and his hardness pressing against her belly. 

But she doesn't mistake it for the start of anything either. He made his choice to stay a Jedi a long time ago.

"Yes."

He extends a hand and the ornate mechanical lock on the door clicks shut and the only light in the room fades to a soft glow. 

She slips off her robe and drops it on the floor behind her and stands as he helps her with her dress, a little clumsy as he tackles the unfamiliar fastenings. She strips to her underclothes and when she turns to face him, his gaze washes over her and she shivers. It's suddenly so purposeful. To be here, in a room with Obi-Wan, taking off her clothes. 

She doesn't even try to help him undress, but just watches. She'd once had to strip him out of his wet robes on Mandalore and it had taken far too long to work out how it all fastened together. For him it takes a matter of seconds, he tears off his robe, and then strips off the many layers until he's standing in his undershorts. 

She pushes him down onto the pillows and straddles him, kissing him hard. His hands grab her waist and he surges upwards, until they're biting at each other's mouths. The feel of all that bare skin against her is entrancing.

She flexes above him, arching her back to have more contact. Years of need has built up to this moment. His hands on her breasts. Her mouth on his neck, where his skin tastes salty and faintly like soap. 

"I need you," he says and she moans in agreement. 

His mouth trails down her chest, sucking. When he reaches the cloth covering her breast he keeps going, without pushing it away, dampening the fabric over her nipple. "I imagined this so many times," he says as he shifts to the other side, leaving a cool spot in the absence of his hot mouth. She wonders incoherently if he means this specific act or just being with her? This is far more than she'd ever imagined. 

He feasts on her breasts as she rubs herself against him. She runs her hands through his hair, across his shoulders and any part of him that she can reach. She is so wet and she needs more.

She reaches between them and pulls his cock out of his shorts. This is so new for them. He gasps and pants, cock jerking in her grasp and he helps her push his shorts down his legs. She thinks they stay tangled round one leg. He moans her name and she smiles.

"Is this okay?" she asks and when he nods, she shimmies out of her underwear and lines herself up over him, looks straight into his eyes and sinks down. 

"Oh," he whispers, as if he doesn't know what to make of the feeling. She's never seen that look in his eyes. There's amazement and joy and something so tender that it makes its way straight to her heart. It makes everything she's risked to see him worthwhile. She's given him a little joy to offset his grief. 

Satine starts to move. There is so much more to come. 

End


End file.
